


Crema Verse Prompt Fill #35

by twobirdsonesong



Series: Crema Verse [38]
Category: Glee
Genre: Brothers, Drabble, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Prompt Fill, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 16:32:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twobirdsonesong/pseuds/twobirdsonesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>bononoh asked you: Idk if this is an anytime thing or a once in a while thing, but I’ve been reading the crema prompts and I’d really like to know more about that first thanksgiving. What the two did, how they found out about the other’s plans or lack thereof, how they made up for it</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crema Verse Prompt Fill #35

Blaine stares at his phone and bites anxiously at his lower lip.  He could call Kurt.  He should call Kurt.  Ask him what he’s doing, what his plans are, if he has any.  Maybe they could get together, if he’s not busy.  Maybe they could spend the holiday together – eating more turkey than strictly healthy and drinking their way through several bottles of sparkling cider (because when else does anyone ever drink that stuff).  And then maybe they could curl up on the sofa together and watch  _National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation_ , which is bound to be playing on repeat even though it’s Thanksgiving and still a month away from Christmas.

 _Oh god Christmas_.  Blaine has no idea what to get Kurt for Christmas.

Blaine pulls Kurt’s contact information up and smiles a little at the picture.  It’s Kurt’s profile, taken from the top of the Belvedere Castle, when they went back after their first date.  His hair is ruffled adorably, the sunlight glinting in the lighter highlights, and his cheeks are pinked from the wind.  Blaine remembers how gusty it was that afternoon, but pleasantly warm.  And how Kurt had leaned against the balustrade and gazed out over the Park.  Blaine had slipped his phone out and taken a picture before he lost the nerve.  Kurt had turned towards him then, and smiled, sweet and private, and held his hand out.  Blaine had taken it and let himself get pulled into the curve of Kurt’s waist.  And then Kurt had taken his phone and snapped a picture of the two of them.  Blaine has a copy of it on his nightstand now.  His curls are ruffled and their cheeks are pressed together.  He’s smiling so brightly his eyes disappear and Kurt’s teeth are showing.

Blaine’s thumb hovers over the  _call_  button.

But Kurt probably already has plans with his dad back home.  He’s probably already home in Ohio right now, safe and sound, telling his dad all about Vogue and Carrie and maybe ( _hopefully_ ) something about the barista he’s dating.  They hadn’t talked about spending this holiday together and Blaine hadn’t wanted to assume anything.  Two months into a relationship had seemed too soon to meet the parents, as it were, or make holiday plans together.

Except that’s kind of a lie.  It’s completely a lie.  Blaine  _wants_  to make plans with Kurt.  He wants to start new traditions with Kurt.  He wants to find out if Kurt prefers pumpkin or apple pie, if he likes fresh cranberry sauce or the stuff from the can.  He wants to know if Kurt makes a lake in his mashed potatoes for the gravy and if he mixes his peas and corn together.

Blaine glances at the clock.  It’s only 8am (he couldn’t sleep); there’s enough time to go out and get a turkey.  It’ll have to be pre-cooked though, but it’ll have to do.  He can make a pie and boil potatoes and make stuffing (his mother’s recipe, sweetened with apples).  He can get rolls and cider from the stores before they close.  He can set the living room table with napkins and candles and he and Kurt can sit on the floor.  It’ll be perfect because it’s  _them._  

“Just call him,” Blaine whispers to himself.

His phone rings, startling him so much he almost drops it.  It’s his brother.

***

Kurt wraps the soft quilt tighter around his shoulders and kicks at the radiator.  It makes an angry, hissing sort of noise and Kurt hisses right back at it.  He’d turned it off the other day when it was spewing too much heat despite being turned down low.  Now he regrets it.  He’s been trying to get it going all damn day and it keeps cutting out with a rattle and a wheeze.

“Son of a  _bitch_ ,” Kurt mutters and kicks the radiator again.  The old pipes clank and groan, but heat – the right amount of heat for once – finally starts to pour out.

“Thanks.”  Kurt shuffles back to the sofa and collapses down on it.  He’s about to reach for the container of Pad Thai that’s gone from full to mostly empty in an embarrassingly short amount of time when his phone rings.  He swallows down his bitter disappointment that it’s not Blaine’s ringtone. 

"Hey, dad."

"Hey, kiddo."

“What’s up?”

“You tell me.  You weren’t gonna call your old man on Thanksgiving?  The first one you haven’t been home for since you moved away?”  His dad doesn’t sound angry or upset, but Kurt feels it anyway.

He’d told his dad he was staying home for work obligations, which wasn’t entirely a lie.  He’s still so new at his job that, even though Carrie clearly loves him and appreciates his hard work, he busts ass every day to continuously prove himself.  He can’t lose the ground he’s gaining.  He wants Anna Wintour to know his name one day.  But he hadn’t wanted to say that he’d also stayed in New York hoping he’d end up spending the holiday with Blaine.

“Yeah, I know,” Kurt swallows, ashamed.  “I’m sorry.  I am.  I just – it’s just-”

His dad’s deep laughter cuts him off.  “Oh, ok.  I get it.  You’re with that guy right now.  The one you won’t stop talking about when you do call.  I’ll let you kids get back to it.”

“No, it’s not that.”  Kurt runs his hand through his hair.  “I wish I was though.”

"So…you didn’t make plans with this Blaine guy?"  His dad sounds genuinely confused and it makes Kurt feel even worse.  Kurt can so clearly picture his dad pushing back his baseball cap and scratching at the crown of his head. 

"No. I didn’t.”  Kurt glances towards the window and wonders what Blaine is doing right then.  “I figured he’d be busy."

"Did you even ask?"

"…no."  Only his dad can make him feel like he just gave the wrong answer on a test.

"Kurt." 

"I know, dad.  I know.  I screwed up."  Kurt collapses back on the sofa and pulls the quilt over his head, hiding from his stupid decisions.

"You really like this guy."

"Yeah,” Kurt takes a deep breath.  “I do.  A lot."  It doesn’t begin to cover how he feels about Blaine.

"And he likes you."

Kurt thinks about the way Blaine looks at him - the adoration in his big, beautiful eyes.  The way Blaine touches and kisses him, like he’s perfect and cherished.  How Blaine makes him his coffee exactly right every morning.

"Yeah.”  Kurt’s chest feels tight, but it’s a good kind of ache.  It’s the same ache he gets when Blaine takes his hand and rubs his thumb against the tender pulse point.  “He does."

"Look, Kurt.  I’m not really the one to give you advice about this sort of stuff.  But when you like someone, sometimes you just gotta tell ‘em.  You gotta let them know.  You can’t make them guess your heart."

Kurt chokes out a laugh, just so he doesn’t cry.  “What do you mean you’re not good at advice?"

“Call him, ok?  And I better see you at Christmas.”

“I love you, dad.”

“Love you too, kid.”

*******

“Are you going to stop staring at your phone and pay attention to this movie at some point?” 

Blaine rolls his eyes at his brother.  “It’s  _Planes, Trains, and Automobiles_.  I’ve seen it.  You’ve seen it.  We watch it every year.”  Blaine’s cell phone screen is blank, devoid of missed calls or text messages.  The disappointment is hot in the back of his throat.

“That’s because it’s a classic.”  Cooper tugs the pile of blankets so his feet are covered.

“You just want to star in a remake.”  Blaine taps on Kurt’s contact info, but doesn’t send a message.

“Is that so wrong?  I would be an excellent Neal Page.”

“They already remade it.”  Blaine hunkers down deeper into the sofa and pushes at Cooper’s leg to make more space.

“ _Due Date_  doesn’t count.”

Blaine chews on his lower lip, staring at Kurt’s number, until Cooper kicks him.  “What?”

“If you don’t fucking call your boyfriend right now, I’m going to hurt you.”

“I just-”

“Call him,” Cooper interrupts.  His eyes are twinkling and Blaine knows that if he doesn’t call Kurt, Cooper will take his phone from him and do it himself.

“But-”

Cooper pokes at Blaine’s hip with his foot. “Call him.  Look, I’ll even do you a solid and go hide out in your bedroom and pretend like I’m not listening in.”  Cooper wriggles free of the mass of blankets and stands up.  “Don’t say I never did nothing for you.”  He winks, the fucker winks, grabs the half-empty bottle of sparkling cider, and disappears into Blaine’s bedroom.

Blaine sighs and runs a hand across his face.  He takes a deep breath and presses  _call_.

***

Kurt is about to switch to something harder than sparkling cider when his phone rings.  Blaine’s ringtone.  Kurt swallows and runs a hand through his hair and down the front of his shirt, smoothing the wrinkles as though to make himself presentable.

“Hello?”

“Kurt?  Hi.  It’s Blaine.”

Kurt closes his eyes and leans back against the arm of the sofa.  “Hi, Blaine.”

“I – I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner. To say Happy Thanksgiving.  I just – I assumed you’d be busy with family stuff and I didn’t want to interrupt.”  Kurt can hear the nerves in Blaine’s voice and pictures him pacing around his living room, or wherever it is he is.

“I’m not." 

“What?”

“I’m not busy.”  Kurt covers his face with a hand, embarrassed about the admission he’s going to make.  “I didn’t make plans for Thanksgiving.”

“Oh.”  Blaine’s voice is small, so small, and Kurt desperately wishes he could see him.

“Yeah, I-”

“I didn’t either,” Blaine interrupts.  “Make plans.  I, I was-” Kurt can hear Blaine swallow.  “I had hoped that you, that is, that you and I could do…something.  Together.”

Kurt’s heart leaps into his throat.

“But I didn’t want to assume.”  Blaine laughs a little and Kurt hears the embarrassment in the notes of his voice.  “But I guess I did anyway.” 

“I didn’t go home this year because I wanted to spend today with you.”  Kurt says it before he can chicken out.

“Oh.”  Blaine’s voice is soft and surprised.  It’s barely an exhalation.  “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”  Kurt pulls the quilt up to his chin and tries not to think about Blaine cuddled up on the sofa with him.

“I’d – I’d invite you over tonight, but my brother is here.  But do you – do you want to do something tomorrow? With me?” 

“I’d love that,” Kurt breathes out.  “I’d love that a lot.”  Kurt rests his hand on his chest where his heart is beating loudly.  He feels warm with relief.

“Ok.  Great.  Uhm, I’ll let you go.  My brother’s probably chewing holes in the furniture – can’t leave that guy alone too long.  Happy Thanksgiving, Kurt.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Blaine.”

Kurt hangs up and thinks that tomorrow he’ll make plans with Blaine for  _next_ Thanksgiving.

 


End file.
